Never were
by Rycitia
Summary: futurefic: A man visits a little shop that grants wishes. Because they never were.


Never were

Thick, velvety blue smoke enveloped the man. He did not try to peer through it, he knew perfectly well that it was no use. That smoke would disperse when it's master saw it fit, and the man would wait. The smoke smelled of oriental flowers, of deep caves and gurgling springs. Heavy and sickening, yet slightly refreshing as well.  
Finally, finally, he had had the heart to come. It wasn't easy. Abandon all. His wife, his beautiful, unhappy, unloved wife with a hundret scars, who was left at the temple. Who probably still mourned the one person who had cared for her. Who wouldn't miss him if he were to leave her today. Marrying had been a convenience. Besides, they both had been devastaded by the cruel news at that time, so it was natural to cling to one another. But he was sure she wouldn't be too angry at him for going and wishing with all his heart. Would she not fear the consequences, she would have gone herself, he mused.  
The air grew warmer, and then two large, ornate doors opened for him. Identical faces peered up at him, soaking him in, grabbing his calloused hands with their childlike paws. They tugged at his arms, and he followed wordlessly, obidiently. A soft pillow was offered by the twins, and he knelt. The smoke had almost dissolved.

A stoic face, set in it's features. He had learned to control it, his body, his thoughts. He was so caught up in controling his every emotion he forgot to show them. Not that he had ever tried it. But now, now, with the presence he had been yearning for filling the room, it got harder to bottle it all down.  
He glanced up. The robes were shiny, the skin was paler than ever, and the eyes looked so eerie in the quiet room he had to restrain himself to not jump from his position and... he willed it down. All of it.  
The shopkeeper advanced. It was a collected, elegant march, but to the man it looked trained, forced upon the lithe body. It was not made for graceful sliding, it was made for failing and jumping up and down. But it seemed he wasn't the only onw who had learned how to get rid of old habits.

The twins arranged the flowing, elaborate clothes as they trailed behind the time witch. Perfection didn't suit the pale skin and the midnight hair, and still, the man had to admit the picture was beautiful. So beautiful it made your eyes water and your heart flutter. But that could also have been the memory.  
Slowly, kepping an eye on the visitor, the time witch glided onto the sofa, looking like a weird crossover between a brilliant butterfly and a sly, hungry fox. So it wasn't all the pecessor's doing.  
When the voice finally filled the smoky, wavering room, it sounded crisp and dark, and not at all like the one the man had been used to, the one which screeched and whined and laughed. This voice was barely a whisper, barely there, and yet so rich. It made his head swim.  
"Welcome to my shop."

The man straitened his back. A game of hide and seek, of luring and false opportunities lay in those words. The time witch is a creature of loneliness and hunger. Hunger for meetings, for hunting down those significant to the fate of the worlds. The man sat in the eerie little shop, and wondered whether he was deemed worthy of being of importance. He doubed it.  
A tableu with tea was placed before his kneeling figure, and the children left the room with an air of finality. With practised movements, the man served himself tea, and was suprised to find that there was only one cup. Maybe alcohol wasn't imbibed from cups these days.  
"You coming here is not a coincidence. It had to happen." The man hated the silky, soft voice, loathed the slick words of mockery and wild needles jabbing his heart. He wanted to peel that sickening smirk off the pale, pale face, longed to take the too bright shine off the eyes. It was wrong, it was horribly wrong.  
He lifted his head nonetheless, rising to the challenge. "I know."

The time witch merely lifted an eyebrow, and the grin wided to reveal hungry teeth. But the man was determinded not to go down without a fight, he had pride, even if it only consisted of an old bow and a splitted eye.  
The time witch's hand described a slow circle, distracting his eyes from the leering smirk. "So...you know why you are here."  
The face was unbearable, filled with gloathing and a desire to hurt and triumph. A smile like that did not exist in the man's memory, and he resfused to fill the blank holes in his meomory with it. The languid, alluring body of the time witch wasn't what he had longed to see, and yet his body betrayed him. His mouth opened, gave way to words he wished he had never uttered before he had even formed them.  
"Yes. I have a wish."

No human being looked like a sly fox and a velvety demon at the same time. Probably obtaining the position time witch takes away the neccessity to look like a human.  
And the man cringed before the time witch, knowing he had taken a step he would regret, because he knew of the nature of wishes and because he was hopless at heart and because he had loved. But that had been a long time ago.  
"I see. What is it, then, your wish?"  
Fangs were revealed, claws extended to reach for the man who kept sitting still. A hunter waitng for his prey to march into the trap willingly. But no satisfaction is derived from that. Alcohol is addictive and unfullfilling, and that is why the time witch was desperate for the man to play prey. A time witch is a creature of loneliness. Unable to interfere, having to wait for the prey to make the decision. A hunter with both hands tied behind the back.  
The man lifted his gaze to meet the mismatched orbs that shone in the smoky room. He would not give them the satifaction of ever witnessing him crumble. He was in control of himself. Even in the little shop.  
"I wish for the person I loved to love me."

The wicked, smug grin faltered within seconds. The smoke froze in mid-motion, to become transparent enough to reveal the face of horror and disbelieve. The man felt a small string of joy resonate through his rigid body. He had suprised the time witch, had ripped that ugly smirk off the eeriely perfect face. Maybe his wish had already been fulfilled, merely witnessing that expression.  
Long years were spent learning, encountering spirits eager for exchange. Even longer years were spent wondering, grieving, encountering humans uncertain for their feelings. Maybe the longest years were spent in a looked room, with a bottle of some kind of alcohol, trying to forget the world beyong the shop outside the dimensions. It had no mercy for those surviving off their pure willpower. Human beings aren't meant to be alone. But soulless dolls with childlike faces can only give cold hugs.  
The time witch understood people's wishes, and that made dealing with unhappy human beings all the more saddening. The time witch understood the man's wish, and also understood the implications, the hundrets of wishes enclosed within one. It hurt so much, just to see the man's calm face, being unable to tell him to think about what would be best for him. The time witch has to grant people's wishes. But nobody fullfills the wishes of the time witch.

The man stared at the figure wrapped in shimmering silk, and it wasn't hard to imagine a genuine smile instead of the terrified face. Probably he would finally be screamed at. But appearently, the time witch is not willing to grant him that satisfaction.  
They were both trapped in that game, unale to push or pull either way. It had never been about the world outside, it had always been about those blue eyes full of fear. Even now, the time witch wouldn't yield. Even though almost all the cards lay open, and waited for a silver butterfly to settle on the as an omen. The worlds didn't release the shop from their grip. It was too important to the universe to give it up because of an emotion stirring deep within the lone fox hungry for anybody to read his eyes.

"You want the person you loved to love you?"  
The voice was icy, just like the eyes. Maybe they were of ice, one so pure it shone like the ocean at night, the other condaminated by golden streaks. Nobody would want to have these eyes. They were too imperfect for the rest of the body.  
Maybe there was a slim chance the man would withdraw. But they knew each other too well, too deep. The man merely lowered his head, and refused to let the time witch dive into his soul. His secrets were too shameful to have them acknowledged. Nobody would ever uncover him. He had banned all the pictures of his grandfather from his room. The library had long ago burned up in flames.  
He was bare to the bones, and the time witch knew. Understood. It was not fate, it was simply what had always been inevitable. It sould have taken place a long time ago, but feelings don't work the way the humans want them to. A single butterfly might cause a hurricane. It is only the time that matters.  
The title 'time witch' has been chosen carefully.

"You know that there is a price to pay. Any interchange has to be equal."  
A last attempt. The time witch can't lead people into the right direction. But the man knew all the tones in that crisp, cool voice, dismissing them, hating the soft edge to the words. He was aware. He was prepared to pay.  
His scarred wife at home had asked him that morning wether he'd be back for dinner. And then she had looked into his eyes, and turned around to let him leave without having to give her a goodbye kiss.  
"Yes."

Narrowed eyes were fixed upon the man's form, and a subtle change in the shoulders of the time witch cause him to look up. They locked eyes.  
"I though you wanted to be happy."  
The words were without venom, but bitter and full of resignation. The blue smoke was wafting again, thicker and sweeter than ever before, menacing and a simple farce. It wasn't about giving people an object like a ring or having them cut off their hair. It was about understanding their needs. And being helpless towards their selfish whims.  
"You must give up what is most precious to you."

Teeth clenched as those words were exhaled into the smoky, suffocation room, tea long gone cold. Tea and alcohol were the addictions they hid behind, serving as a replacement for the arms that didn't hug them. They were equal. But never the same.  
"Yes."  
Maybe the man was too grim, maybe the man was too selfish, maybe the man was too kind. Anyway, it didn't matter. The only thing that matters is his wish.  
Any wish must be fulfilled. It is the purpose of the time witch's existence.

Memories aren't the only things that remind us of people. Other humans also trigger our emotions, just like an insignificant lunchbox, once forgotten to be returned, can.  
When the man left the shop, he had given up what had been most precious to him. Now it wasn't anymore. He would be able to look at his wife without having to think about the scars covering her back. He would forget what had been so special about his bow. And maybe, he would one day even stop wondering about the eerie little shop at all.

The time witch gripped the doorframe so hard the thin fingers stared to bleed. Red blood, one of the last few remnants of humanity, tirckled down to the floor. Eyes that didn't fit the perfect body, the perfect voice, were filled with something like tears. Maybe the time witch had known all along. Maybe it wouldn't have taken so long.  
It wasn't good, it wasn't a happy ending. The time witched had to fullfill wishes, and the man's wish was embedded deep within the emotions he never let surface. Maybe it was his last act of love. Maybe it was his form of revenge.  
The time witch broke down. _The person I loved. _ Here it was. It was draped it the most breathtaking blue and silver kimono, it almost cried.

Nobody wanted to see that ugly smirk. And yet, it was safely in place when the next customer arrived, alongisde a cup of sake in the slim, pale hand.

* * *

A/N: This is supposed to be veeeery ambiguous. The charakters ought to be recognisable, though. I was wondering about shopkeeperWatanuki, and what would have to happen in order to have him succeed Yuuko. I also made a much friendlier version, but it isn't finished yet. 

Anyway, I wanted to have the roles of "the man" and "the time witch" reversed. At the beginnig, "the time witch" is the one who seems hostile. Then, "the man" is revealed to be somehow cruel. But in the end, both were lonely and sad. It is just a question of who breaks first. The conclusion I wasn't able to define more clearly (though I hope most people understand it), is that "the man" had to give up what was most precious to him (the person he loved) in order to make that person love him. Since all you you surely quessed, this person was "the time witch", it is now visibly reversed: "the time witch" loves, and the man doesn't. Though it is unclear whether "the time witch" had loved the man before or not. I say rather not in that way, it was more the overall loneliness. The motives of "the man" remain unclear: did he do it out of love or because he wanted revenge?

It's also a take on the nature of the job of "the time witch". A constant onlooker, unable to tell people right away what they really need or to realise it.

Hope you enjoyed it. i would be grateful for a little comment on this text.


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